


The Purge

by 96Yuu (Kanekane)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bad Spelling & Grammar, Black Mist and Astral are humans, Death, Knifeplay, M/M, Movie: The Purge: Anarchy, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Beta Read, Pet Names, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9167356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanekane/pseuds/96Yuu
Summary: The Purge: Anarchy AU. 96Yuu. 96 being 96.“I will get you on the Purge.” Black Mist said, threatened, his voice a low purr, and Yuma either laughed or answered with some petty words.He never believed it.Until now.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wait. 
> 
>  
> 
> This fic is full of dark content and was not edited, so please, think well before reading it and read the tags, thanks.
> 
> .

Black Mist clicked his high heels on the store floor, a hint of impatience could be recognized with the movement.

 

Scrolling through his phone, the only news on all sites was about The Purge. He had less than 2 hours until the sirens, until all the laws and morals were lifted and humans could be like what they really were: animals.

 

People liked to act as if they were organized, righteous, above their own instincts, but when the idea of 12 hours where anarchy ruled showed up, a day where you could kill, steal, rape, break inside anyone’s house without any kind of consequences, more than 70% of the population voted for a “yes”.

 

Black Mist looked around, spotting a group of teenagers rushing outside the store, saying something about not wanting to participate on the Purge.

 

Little liars.

 

96 knew that anyone would take the chance of doing as they please if only they had courage enough.

 

* * *

 

“Where were you?” Astral’s cold voice reached his ears, inquiring, as always; why Astral liked to know his every and each step? Maybe it would be a good idea to write down his whole day, including the pauses to go to the bathroom and details of what happened in there.

 

“Out…” 96 answered with the obvious, not worrying about hiding his discontentment.

 

At the corner of his eye, Black Mist noticed Astral approaching, entering his room and staying near a wall.

 

“You bought a new make up.” Astral stated, watching as his brother used brushes and other type of materials with skillful hands, applying eyeshadow, mascara, lipstick and painting some green and red marks between his own eyes, as if he was going to war. “Black Mist,” Astral’s voice had an edge of warning this time. As if 96 cared. “Are you going outside tonight?”

 

“Why, are you going to stop me?” A smile crossed his painted lips while 96 tried to decide a nice pair of earrings to wear, after all, it was a special night.

 

“You know it’s dangerous.”

 

“Please Astral, don’t start with the ‘I care about you’ speech. We both know it’s not true. You’re worried with what I am going to do and with who, admit it.” 96 stepped away from the mirror, going to his own wardrobe, fishing the new jacket he had bought early. “What do you think? It’s legit leather, I’m sure Yuma will love it.”

 

Astral only crossed his arms and blinked, his golden eyes twinkly dangerously in that place of the room, that was illuminated only by a dim light.

 

“Why the long face? Are you trying to come up with a plan of locking me in my room?” Black Mist laughed while sitting on the bed, picking his boots and dusting off any piece of dirt that could be laying on them. “Well, you have exactly 30 minutes until The Purge. I might hear you.”  

 

“I do hope your plans have nothing to do with Yuma.” The sentence held some poison, a promise of something harmful. It was rare seeing Astral act like that, letting this side of himself break through the calm, stoic façade.

 

“Letting out the claws, are we?” Black Mist picked a mask with his polished nails, placing it neatly around his neck. “Too pretentious of you, thinking I’ll obey your wishes when tonight not even the government can order me around.”

 

Astral frowned before hearing the TV announcing the population had just a few minutes before the Purge.

 

He had to lock the entire house to make sure no one would break in. Even though he and his brother lived in a good neighborhood, among the rich portion of the city, Astral thought it wasn’t bad to use a little bit of precaution.

 

He had tried to invite Yuma to stay with him during the Purge, but, as always, Yuma had refused, not wanting to be a burden.

 

Astral directed a cold look at his brother and left, going to activate the security system.

 

Black Mist rolled his eyes once alone, but his good mood soon came back when he opened the cabinet drawer, getting from there the precious weapon he had worked so hard for.

 

It was specifically to inject medication. Any type of substances. 96 had one very special already loaded, the transparent liquid reflecting his smile.

 

* * *

 

“We inform that all the hospitals, police stations, firefighters and banks are closed until 7 a.m. and won’t answer to any calls made during the Purge. Explosives and weapons above level 4 are prohibited, anything lower than this is allowed. We wish to all of you who are going to Purge a successful night, and to those who won’t, stay safe.”

 

Black Mist pressed a button on his car panel and picked a music, choosing to hear something in his tastes rather than the monotonous tone of the woman warning about the rules of the Purge.

 

The streets were already empty, all the stores have been closed and, eventually, 96 could see some masked persons looking for a good place to hide and wait for future victims.

 

He stepped on the gas when sirens started to echo around the city, announcing the start of the anarchy, and almost immediately shots could be heard on the lane at his left.

 

96 himself had brought some weapons. A flamethrower, a pair of axes, a couple of guns and knives, a machine gun and some grenades. Even though his goal was simple enough, the city would be full of persons thinking they were God.

 

Human nature.

 

96 drove quietly, sometimes spotting crashed cars, hearing screams and explosions, seeing groups of masked friends beating to death unfortunate homeless. Vans were common too, those were used to kidnap people, to where, Black Mist didn’t care.

 

He parked the car in the same spot he usually used in normal days, near Yuma’s current house, but far away as so anyone in the building could notice it.

 

Yuma was a big boy now, struggling in a university, fighting to keep his grades in an acceptable rank and even living away from his family, the bitch sister and annoying grandmother. The parents didn’t even make any difference, since they preferred to look for a gold pot at the end of the rainbow than to stay with their own son.

 

It was very quiet around that place of the city, after all, who would want to break inside a student dormitory? If not to kill, then to rape, for stealing was out of topic.

 

96 knew by heart where Yuma’s apartment was, having been there a lot of times under obnoxious excuses, but Yuma had never officially prohibited his presence, so why stop?

Climbing would be the hardest part, but 96 was used to jump over fences and go against the law, so his body moved freely, like some kind of monster stretching their limbs over the wall, a swiftly shadow moving to the second floor, stopping right at the window.

 

As 96 had anticipated, Yuma was soundly asleep.

 

How could someone sleep so carelessly while half of the population was worried about not dying and the other part was worried about how to kill?

 

But once again, it was Yuma, the carefree boy who was always thinking about other’s safety and lived under the impression that nothing too bad would happen to him.

 

And honestly, this could even be true, if Yuma hadn’t this way of stirring the monster residing inside 96.

 

Black Mist tried to open the window, finding out, unsurprisingly, that it was unlocked.

 

It was easy to slip inside the small room, furnished with only the basic to a human being to live, but stylized in a way that screamed Yuma all around.

 

The teenager himself was on his bed, the blankets partially kicked from his body, the shirt rolled up and showing delectable skin.

 

96 stopped for a few seconds in the partial darkness before getting his pad and taking the opportunity to save the moment in a picture.

 

Yuma looked helpless like this, but Black Mist knew better; had suffered kicks and punches in wild moments in the past, when he tried to render the boy and ended up victim not only of Yuma’s warm, childish wrath, but Astral’s cold, merciless one too.

 

If he wanted to savor the 12 hours he had with Yuma and no rules, measures had to be taken.

 

96 approached his sleeping boy, taking some seconds to hear Yuma’s eventual snores before taking the special gun.

 

The idea had been cooking in his brain for 3 years already. At first, Black Mist didn’t want to admit not even to himself that someone as Yuma Tsukumo had earned his attention, but as time passed, the urges started to be impossible to control.

 

Yuma’s friends all knew about his intentions, even Astral had picked up his feelings, only Yuma seemed oblivious enough to them.

 

_“I will get you on the Purge.”_ Black Mist said, threatened, his voice a low purr, and Yuma either laughed or answered with some petty words.

 

He never believed it.

 

Until now.

 

96 quickly injected the drug on Yuma’s thigh, the needle breaking through soft skin and earning a groan from the boy himself.

 

“Shh shh, sweetheart, it’s okay.” Black Mist dropped the weapon, for it was useless now, and climbed on the bed, on top of Yuma, placing his legs at each side of him and effectively trapping the teenager.

 

“…Ninety-six…?” Yuma seemed a bit groggy yet; if it was for sleepiness or the drug, didn’t matter now.

 

“Happy Purge day~” He singsonged, a smile devouring his face, a predator ready to eat their prey.

 

“-W-What are you doing here?” Yuma tried to get up, but his limbs went limp, barely answering to his commands.

 

“Isn’t It obvious enough?” Black Mist placed a hand over Yuma’s bare stomach, rasping the tip of his nails at the skin. “I came to get you.”

 

The reaction was a bit slow, but 96 noticed when Yuma frowned and opened his lips, certainly to scream, or try to.

 

“Nah ah, none of this, doll,” a hand covered Yuma’s mouth. “If you want to scream, it will be only when I want you to, do you fucking understand it?” The previous sweetness vanished from 96’s voice, replaced by a bestiality that would have scared Yuma more if he could react and think properly.

 

“Good boy.” The phrase was whispered when Yuma’s answer was a whimper, a sound that pleased Black Mist. “Did you really thought I wouldn’t come for you? Or did you want to let me in, that’s why the window was open?” A low chuckle and 96 caressed the other’s face, then roughly grabbed his jaw and forced Yuma’s face to the side, having now access to his ear. “Answer me when I speak to you.”

 

Black Mist could feel the teenager squirming underneath himself, his arms trying to find strength enough to push, to put some space between them, to make 96 stumble out of bed, but the drug effects were already up and the best Yuma could do was squirm his eyes shut and reply with a voice cracked by desperation.

 

“N-No!”

 

“Always so defiant… You need some training, pet.” Black Mist smiled once again before moving, pressing Yuma against the headboard and making him sit on his lap, open legs surrounding 96’s waist, where knives and guns laid. “You felt that?”

 

Yuma could be feeling lethargic and weak, but he widened his eyes when the other male drew a very sharp knife from his belt, the metal shining under the moonlight.

 

“Pretty, isn’t it? Can you picture how it would look slipping through your arm?” Black Mist taunted, slowly caressing Yuma’s shoulder, going down, dragging the knife and not really cutting, but it was enough to make his captive tremble.

 

“…Black Mist, stop…” There was something in his tone that made 96 stop. It wasn’t any type of warning or angriness, the emotions Yuma usually directed to him, it was fear.

 

“Shh, babydoll,” He rushed, the knife pointing to another direction, but still being held by 96. “I just want to play a bit…” Black Mist approached and licked the teenager’s face, his saliva dripping from Yuma’s cheek. “Just like you were playing with me during all those years.”

 

Resentment. Black, dark resentment.

 

Yuma seemed to feel it, for he shivered, averting his face, trying to cover himself from the world, from 96.

 

“What?” Black Mist said once he heard the other whispering something, words too low and jumbled to make any sense.

 

“--I’m scared…”

 

That shaped a smile on lips painted with purple lipstick.

 

Yuma was so dense, especially with his own emotions, the ones that made him look vulnerable in front of others. It was practically impossible to hear the boy admitting he was tired, lonely, hurt, scared… And now here he was, opening his most defenseless side to 96.

 

“Sweet Yuma…” Black Mist whispered, dropping the knife careless, the metal clanging against the ground. “What a good boy. Maybe we should let the games to later and get to the main course now?”

 

Outside of Yuma’s room was possible to hear some screams and things breaking, but while it made the boy on his lap shiver, Black Mist couldn’t care less; if some of Yuma’s friends died, the more the better.  

 

“All those years of you taunting me,” 96 held the other by his hips, starting to rock his own slowly, the forming bulge underneath tight pants pressing against soft flesh. “Pretending you had no idea of what I wanted to do…” Hot breath hit Yuma’s ear, making him whimper quietly. “I told you, Yuma, and you still accepted to go out with me every time I asked, still welcomed me in your home, your life.”

 

Black Mist fisted some soft hair at the back of Yuma’s head, pulling it back, revealing a throat that was covered in cold sweat.

 

“You wanted it, didn’t you?” 96 pressed open mouthed kisses where he could reach, stopping at where shoulder connected to the neck, taking his time to lick, taste Yuma’s skin, before, without any warnings, sank his teeth on there.

 

Yuma, who until now had been brave enough to try and form coherent answers, who had fight against any type of noises, opened his lips to let a cry slip, the dulcet sound being followed by a sob and a strangled: “N-Ninety-six…”

 

“This is your mark for now, Yuma… When you look at the mirror, when you touch yourself here, when you go out…” A small laugh left 96’s mouth. “Everyone will know what happened, that you _let_ me do it,” Sharp nails caressed Yuma’s back, leaving a red mark behind. “Isn’t it dirty? So dirty, baby face… Marked like this…”  

 

Black Mist lowered his face until he could lick Yuma’s nipples, sucking at it while, at the same time, moving his hips, creating a sweet friction that filled Yuma with pleasure, the sensation mixed with shame and the tears that threatened to fall from his precious boy’s eyes.

 

“Crying?” 96 whispered against Yuma’s navel, feeling the area bristler, taking his time to run the tip of his tongue around, being able to feel every little jump Yuma did, every little tremor that went down his spine every time someone outside screamed, every time 96 himself pressed his teeth gently on smooth skin.

 

“No-- I-I’m not…” Came the rushed whisper, all wet and broken by a weak sob.

 

“We already talked about it, toy, remember?” Black Mist slipped a hand between Yuma’s legs, pressing and massaging the forming bulge there. “Don’t lie.”

 

Yuma threw his head back, opening his lips and letting out a moan, a soft mewl accompanying the sweet sound. A shame they were almost drowned by the loud noise of glass shattering in the next room.

 

“We already talked about it, toy, remember?” Black Mist slipped a hand between Yuma’s legs, pressing and massaging the forming bulge there. “Don’t lie.”

 

Yuma threw his head back, opening his lips and letting out a moan, a soft mewl accompanying the sweet sound. A shame they were almost drowned by the loud noise of glass shattering in the next room.

 

“Fucking shit.” 96 growled when the locked door to his boy’s room started to be assaulted by some idiot.

 

The only thing that went through Black Mist’s head was to kill whoever dared interfere the moment he had waited so long for, but upon lifting his head and meeting Yuma’s face, after noticing the way he was holding onto his jacket, as if he was _desperate_ , Black Mist’s priorities changed.

 

Yuma had been assaulted by 96 himself, but he still _trusted_ Black Mist, still sought shelter and protection on his embrace, still looked at 96 with wide eyes, full of those naivety and hopeless trust.

 

The kicks at the door continued, the old wood starting to give way under the constant pressure. Whoever it was outside, they were very committed to break into the room.

 

“Ninety-six…” Yuma whispered, a single tear rolling down his cheek while he couldn’t stop watching the door, small, pearly droplets of sweaty descending his forehead.

 

After sucking in a single, deep breath, Black Mist moved his arms around Yuma’s body, one of them secured under his thighs while the other served as support to the still somewhat boneless back.

  


“I have you, pet.”

 

* * *

 

Apparently, someone thought it would be fun enough gather a big group of hunters and dogs to target local universities.  

 

It was chaos around the dormitories, a mess that 96 wouldn’t mind watching if he didn’t know Yuma would break down by something as insignificant as a mere thought of having any of his friends being the ones dying, crying, being kidnapped.

 

No, if Yuma were to break, it would be by 96’s own terms. Slowly, sweetly, an assisted suicide.

 

Black Mist once again drove around the streets, paying enough attention to his surroundings to avoid any unnecessary gruesome views.

 

At his side, on the passenger seat, Yuma seemed to be recovering, the medication probably wearing off. The initial dose was small, its only purpose being contain the violent reactions until 96 had the situation under control, which he (correctly) assumed, would have been soon.

 

The silence was reigning until Yuma quietly spoke.

 

“This is not how it works…” He wasn’t looking at Black Mist, but at his own hands. “This is not how you-- How we should…”

 

They entered a street so dark that 96 had no choice than to turn the headlights on, making the car an easy target.

 

“It’s not like you were accepting or getting the other approaches, love.” At this, Yuma turned to look at his face.

 

The car hit a high speed and, for a moment, it was like they were gliding through the street, a sensation powerful enough to trigger fear and mightiness both.

 

Until something appeared in front of the vehicle.

 

They were too fast to stop, Yuma screamed while his hands belatedly reached to the steering wheel, trying to change directions.

 

96’s first instinct was not to dodge, it was to run over whatever it was blocking the way, especially in a day like that, where rules didn’t apply and anyone out on streets were either unscrupulous monsters or unlucky bastards, but the car was already skidding, the wall of a building dangerously close to the car rear.

 

Black Mist felt his body moving according to its own senses, his arms reaching to Yuma while the pink-haired teenager did the same, they both bracing for impact.

 

“Fuck!” The scream came mixed with the sounds of the vehicle bodywork scrunching, the impact being great enough to send some pieces of the back headlights flying around the road.

 

The seat belts made their work, though, holding them inside the car, preventing Yuma and 96 to become two more bodies broadcasted on the morning news.

 

“Are you okay?” The voice full of fear and desperation reached Black Mist’s ear, a rushed murmur coming from the trembling boy glued to his side. “Ninety-six? Ninety-six! Are you okay?!”

 

All the worry, all the horror Yuma was feeling, all of those originating from the simple fact that Black Mist was taking a little too long to answer.

 

Yuma _cared_.

 

Maybe more than he bothered to show in normal days, maybe more than he would ever admit to himself.

 

“ _Ninety-six!_ ”

 

“I’m alive, doll.” Black Mist cracked an answer, having time only to see relief washing through his boy’s face before Yuma pulled him to an embrace, resting his forehead on a leather clad shoulder.  

 

“Asshole…”

 

96 could have laughed, made some type of joke, but his mind seemed empty, especially when the pink-haired teenager turned his head, facing the street.

 

It was still pretty dark, but the headlights were still on, illuminating some meters ahead. There, in the middle of the street, a girl was lying down.

 

She seemed small enough to be a child, her long, brown hair matted with what could only be blood. She was immobile, like a corpse.

 

A strangled noise came from Yuma’s throat.

 

“--W-We hit her,” Suddenly, his energy came back. “We killed her--!!”

 

Yuma was all over the place, pushing 96 away, his hands moving around the door until he could find a handle, opening it.

 

“Yuma! Come back here!” Black Mist tried to grasp at the other’s shirt, but Yuma slipped to the road, barefoot, his movements a bit sluggish, his desperation easy to see, his labored breath echoing through the dark road. “ _YUMA!”_

 

Of course it was a trap, it was very obvious.

 

They were fast enough to sent a human body flying across a whole block, besides, for the corpse be precisely on their line of sight, under the only spotlight in the whole street…   

 

Black Mist got his machine gun and left the car quickly, being able to see Yuma crouching next to the girl, his trembling hands uneasy, not sure if they should reach or leave.

 

96 widened his eyes when a fishing net trapped his boy, Yuma squirming underneath the rope, shouting, kicking, demanding to be released.

 

“I’ve got one! I have one here!” A very happy guy came feasting from, seemingly, a tree. He moved fast, the tiny hat on his head apparently glued to it, since it didn’t fall. “Duh! It’s just a dummy!” He laughed at Yuma, unaware of 96’s presence. “I can’t believe you fell for that! But thinking better now, it really was a good tactic, don’t you agree?”

 

“I don’t care about you or your tac-- Tacu-- Tati-- Your plans! Let me go already!” Yuma tried to throw a punch, but his hand ended up all trapped around rope and knots.

 

Until then, 96 had planned to shoot the little monkey until his head split in two, had thought about cursing his whole family and future generations, but upon seeing that scene, all his burning hatred condensed in a cold, icy wish to kill.

 

His boy couldn’t even pronounce a word.

 

He was so childish yet.

 

How could a fucking monkey like that midget try to lay a hand on him?

 

“You’ll give me some money when I sell you to the riches! Are you ready to be hunted?! Are you--!!”

 

Black Mist grabbed the neck, his long nails working more like claws, digging into sweaty, disgusting skin.

 

“H-Hey! S-Stop--!” The guy tried to fight, but it was easy to lift him from the ground. Probably, in this moment, reality hit him; he had no chance of fighting back. “Wait! Wait! It was just a joke! A joke! Let me go and I’ll release your friend!”

 

“Oh, really now?” 96 kept walking, reaching the barely lit sidewalk. “Are _you_ ready to be hunted?”

 

Bones crushing underneath his hands always felt different.

 

Different persons, different sensations.

 

The sounds varied too. A punch and a kick didn’t sound the same, especially if the victim liked to scream.

 

96 had a firm grip on the guy’s head, moving his arm in a coordinated rhythm, choosing the floor to sink the midget’s face against it, crushing his nose, breaking his front teeth, muffling the pleas of help, of mercy.

 

Blood started to spill as Black Mist hit the guy’s head repeatedly on the pavement, the warm liquid spreading on his leather jacket, some managing to even land on his cheek.

 

“Ninety-six! Stop! That’s enough!” Yuma yelled, fighting to escape the fishing net. “You’re going to _kill_ him!”

 

96 pressed the guy’s face against the floor, making sure he wasn’t moving anymore. As immobile as the dummy he had used early.

 

Yuma was still struggling when Black Mist approached, just in time to see a van and some masked teenagers on motorcycles.

 

Hunters.

 

His fingers flew without a second thought to the machine gun resting around his torso, secured by a thin strip of cloth. The weapon fitted perfectly, the weight seemed part of his arm as he aimed for the gang, shooting and killing, one, two, three persons, animals.

 

96 used those scarce seconds to reach Yuma, stopping the attack to pull a knife from his boot and give it to him, the command being silent, but evident.

 

More hunters gathered around the van, some of them trying to hit Black Mist with bullets or any other type of weapon, but it was impossible to approach.

 

For some time, 96 was unreachable, feeling like the entire world could be crushed under his boots, smashed between his fingers, slashed by his pointy teeth.

 

A sensation of power so big that he didn’t even notice when Yuma made a move, the teenager pressing himself against Black Mist’s back, holding his waist, screaming for him to _stop._

 

And 96’s first error was to comply.

 

The second, was letting the hunters close around them.

 

The third, that could cost his, Yuma’s life, was being captured and threw inside the ominous van, the same that was kidnapping people early, in the university.

 

Where they were going, Black Mist wanted to know.

 

* * *

 

“What a splendid night, ladies and gentlemen! With only a few hours until the end of this glorious day, we, of the Heart Hunting Club, present you the last lot of this year!”

 

Silky, blue curtains were lifted, revealing a fancy ball room.

 

Black Mist bared his canines when a light blinded him for a few seconds.

 

“The starting price will be 200,000!”

 

96 had to make some effort until his vision focused on the man that talked so happily.  Green tux, a top hat, cane, glasses… Mr. Heartland.

 

The man was walking around a stage, in front of people well dressed, all of them neatly accommodated on comfortable chairs, each table containing a beautiful bouquet.

 

Crystals were adorning the floor, masterpieces of da Vinci and other artists hanged on walls.

 

Black Mist quickly looked to his side, checking Yuma, noticing he was scared, but didn’t seem hurt. Under the bright light, the mark on his neck seemed to call all attention.

 

“Come on, precious people, look at those specimens!” Heartland turned to the captives, his cane pointing to persons that 96 hadn’t even noticed until then. “It’s our last lot, don’t you all want to have fun hunting them in our special arena?”

 

“Are you fucking with me…” Black Mist groaned, rolling his eyes.

 

During the Purge, only the poor had to hide and protect their own lives. Rich people, the ones at the top of food chain, had the luxury to buy other persons, to join clubs, like that one, to hunt and kill civilians.

 

He should have guessed that those vans were hoarding people to this purpose.

 

“I will stay with the two at left.” A cold voice raised from the back. “Bring them here, Mr. Heartland.”

 

96 could only laugh, a bitter, low sound bubbling from his throat. He glanced at Yuma and his smile grew into something distorted, portions of teeth showing more than the normal.

 

All the hope shining in his beautiful eyes, the name ready to abandon those pretty lips.

 

“Astral…”

 

Of course. Of _fucking_ course Astral would be there. He probably used all his contacts to find Yuma’s location.

 

What a greater shame than to be _bought_ by his own brother?

 

“Astral,” Black Mist said in a teasing tone while he and Yuma were guided towards Astral’s table. “I thought you didn’t purge… Isn’t it, like you said once, a great blasphemy?”

 

His brother bothered to direct a dirty look in his direction for only a couple of seconds before focusing on Yuma.

 

“Are you hurt?”

 

“No, I’m fine…” 96 caught the moment Astral’s eyes landed on the mark, the tiny droplets of blood pooling where his teeth squeezed. Yuma seemed to notice it too. “Ninety-six helped me.”

 

Astral seemed ready to say something, to press on the matter, but he dropped it after looking to Yuma’s face.

 

He knew it was a battle already lost.

 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I believe we have some business to take care of?” Heartland approached, smiling.

 

He knew who 96 was from the beginning, but being the insect he was, money talked higher; why let someone go for free when he could earn something from it?

 

“Yes, sure. I will be right back, Yuma. …Ninety-six.” Astral took a step back and, then, followed Mr. Heartland.

 

Black Mist almost wanted to give them the finger, but it would serve to nothing. Instead, he chose to direct his attention to Yuma, who was still standing by his side.

 

“I said I had you, pet.”

 

Yuma tried to fight a smile, but it showed anyway.

 

“You really are an asshole.”

 

“But you still want me.” The comeback came naturally and Yuma neither agreed or disagreed, his only reply being leaning on 96’s side.

 

It was answer enough.

  
  



End file.
